Woman of War Kingdom of Strife Teasers?
by Ardent Apathy
Summary: These are/will be excerpts from my story "Woman of War, Kingdom of strife". They take place in the 'distant future' relative to the current time in the story. Released for my readers that may be fed up with waiting for my chronological updates


**Note: Alright, guys and gals. As you've probably noticed, I have been gone for an excessively long amount of time. Which means no updates (until now… kinda). And I sincerely apologize for that. But life has just been out of control—and classes and tests make everything worse. But on the plus side, exams are nearly over—so hopefully that mean's I'll be able to invest more time in this. Thank you for your patience, if you've stayed on.**

**Special Attention: In the meantime, I am still working on finishing off chapter 5. Awful, I know. But as I've mentioned before, I have already started on "post season 3" material for my story. And "Undecided89" has been patient while waiting for my next update, but has requested that I release some of the material I have ready. Which I've agreed to, hence this chapter—after all, I have no idea if I'll make it to season 3 with this story (though I fully intend to). If you choose to read this chapter, know that it is in "the distant future" (as in a year or 2… or 3) after chapter 4. If you want to wait and read the chapters in order, ignore this entry. But if you do want to read, I've "censored" some names as to not spoil too much for the progression of the story (censored names are indicated by: a series of "****" and if you can't figure it out, subscript #s denote different characters). I've also erased some key things that might give… identities or plots away. These may be appearance references, dialogue exchanges, or anything else (indicated by: a series of +++). **

Booming laughs of knights and proper nobles. Coy giggles of Ladies courted. painted-lipped smiles… few genuine. Well-intentioned words. A little harmless flirting. A little more not-so-harmless. Greedy, _needy, _moments borne of stolen glances. Sickening.

Raivierra laughed to herself, coughing on the garnet liquid that glided over her palette. She earned this. She'd finally made it. Through tireless toil and foolish perseverance. She hungrily drained the rest of her chalice. Licking away what droplets that might remain on her lips, she allowed her eyes to roam the room. She grimaced.

She wanted none of it.

That would explain why she was so determinedly stationed at the banquet table with the drinks conveniently within reach. She eyed the cracked bottom of her chalice. That had been her… what, sixth drink? She reached for the jug. Might as well make it seven.

No false friendships. No feigned interests. No parading about in this damned costume! She threw her hands up, causing the angel-winged sleeves of her gown to fly about in a mess; the intensity of the burgundy under-sleeves clashing with the sereneness of champagne satin. Resting her free hand on the banquet table, she leaned her weight on her forearm and groaned. She wasn't made for this. Flowing garments that restricted her movements and tangled her limbs. A bodice that provided for shallow breaths. She awkwardly lifted a leg, grateful for the temporary relief. These cursed tall shoes that blistered her feet. And all this _whining_.

She was getting spoiled. Damn it!

The sound of wine filling her cup was what brought her to attention. "Cheers"

"My L'dy…" The man was clearly heavily inebriated. "You l'k…" He swayed and for a moment Raivierra thought he was going to be sick all over her. "Rav'ging."

"I believe the term is ravishing." A familiar leisurely tone interrupted from behind her. "And you shouldn't be wasting your time. It's going to take a lot more than that to get anywhere with this one." The owner of the voice moved to her side. ******. Right when she needed him.

As the grossly intoxicated man stumbled away with slurred curses, Raivierra turned to face her savior. Not the Lord Almighty, but rather, ******. Who was draining the rest of whatever filled the grail in his hand. "I don't know whether to thank you… or to scold you on account of some other unfortunate soul." she teased, standing upright.

"You're welcome." His rough hand fell on her shoulder as he leaned around her for the pitcher of mead. Filling his cup, he glanced at her before raising the goblet to his lips.

"And I'd name you a hypocrite if I didn't fancy women that can hold their drink." He grinned good-naturedly, squeezing her shoulder. A bit odd how he had yet to let go. And yet, she found it comforting.

"Lucky me." She hid her smirk in her cup, taking a healthy swill. Her gaze flicked over to the man. She caught him. Staring, that is. Brow raised and all. "What?"

"Funny." Was all he said at first. Then she noticed. He was eyeing her. Up and down. Up and down. And again. A good deal more than once. He took another swig of his mead, swallowing thickly. "I just never figured you for the 'gowns and doll' type."

That earned him a playful shove. "Well, I thought I pull it off quite well."

He smirked. "I'm sure you're not the only one." He looked nearly panicked for a brief moment. Embarrassed? "*******2 certainly shares your opinion." The alarm was gone as quickly as it had come.

"And what makes you think that?"

"Well, you were on his arm earlier this evening." He examined his cup in an unconcerned manner; +++++. I assume he wouldn't have looked so smug were you a troll."

Raivierra scoffed, bringing his attention back to her along with a boyish smile. "A troll? You certainly have a way with words. It's a real wonder you're not swarmed by ladies." She hesitated. "And you should know that ********2 merely requested that he escort me." She casually shifted her weight to her left leg, surveying the scattered attendees. She smirked, making note of *******'s stag attendance. "Apparently it's unseemly arriving to these kinds of affairs unaccompanied."

****** was silent for a while. Though she could still feel his eyes on her. "So… what you're saying is… I've given you too much credit?"

"Oh yes, you've seen the kind of men I attract." She ran a hand through her dark unruly hair. "They're all either excessively drunk or incredibly insane."

****** erupted with laughter—as if he'd found some hidden joke to what she had said. His whole body shook, and he used that hand on her shoulder to steady himself.

She laughed with him, once again hiding it with a swig of her wine. She let her eyes stray across the room. +++++ hair and ++++ skin caught her notice. The smile fell from her face and all else with it. ******3. Clothed in a yellow and white surcoat with dark trousers. Her chest suddenly felt tight. So maybe there _were _some perks to this life. Well, _a _perk, to be specific.

But it was not to be hers. Whether she denied it or not made not difference. Every day, it grew more and more apparent. Even now, as she watched him search for another.

It hurt. Knowing that. But not like one might imagine it would. It neither throbbed, nor stung, nor burned. It was more of a dull, hangover that never let her sober up. The kind that kept her wanting. Needing.

******* followed her gaze. "Ah. Well that's unfortunate." He muttered with furrowed brows. His hand finally dropped from her shoulder. She almost missed it.

"What's that?"

"Come now. The man's never drunk." ******* gestured at ******3 and Raivierra withheld the urge to smack him. Real subtle, ******. Real subtle. His voice went on, "And if insane, he hides it well."

Raivierra shrugged it off. "I have no idea why you think I ought to know that."

"So you're telling me you have absolutely no interest in him?" Oh, the way he said that. There was no way he would believe her.

"None." She tried anyway.

"Don't give me that. Don't think I haven't noticed you giving him those bedroom eyes every chance you get." ******'s tone was lecturing. Whether he knew it or not, his expression had hardened. Only slightly.

"******!" Raivierra exclaimed, unable to constrain the embarrassment that colored her face. Of course, she _could _just blame it on the drink.

"What? I mean, I get it. Every woman finds him ridiculously good-looking. He's a gentleman with a noble heart." He grinned smartly, matching her eyes. "_I'm_ nearly inclined to swear off women for the guy."

Raivierra snorted, stifling a laugh. ****** was staring at her again. Well, watching her, more like. With those warm eyes and surprisingly gentle smile. "As well you should."

"I should do what now?" ****** snapped to attention.

"You suggested it yourself. Swearing off women." She nudged him with her elbow. "A smart man like yourself surely would."

"And why is that?" His voice was absent. His eyes no longer sought hers. Instead they lingered lower. She nearly slapped him for being a pig. Nearly. But it was still her face he was looking at.

"Women. Far too much hassle. Vicious. Drama. Never satisfied. And don't get me started on the nagging." She let out an exaggerated exasperated groan. "Oh! The list just goes on, dear." He shifted his weight, his hip and length of his torso brushing against her. Strange. How she hadn't noticed when he moved so close. Stranger, she wondered, as to _why_.

"And I suppose not a single one is worth it?" ***** queried, matching her gaze again. An amused look creased his handsome face. Yes, he was handsome. +++++ so. She'd given up denying that fact long ago. And this man was leaning towards her.

"You catch on fast." She smirked, her eyes never leaving his. "But… if you're so intent on pursuing women, then might I suggest you start with that one?" She gestured with a sharp nod at a woman in a revealing purple dress. The girl had a gaggle of men surrounding her already. "She seems quite the catch."

He spared the woman a courtesy glance before turning his attention back to Raivierra. "She has a pretty face… but not nearly as lovely as another woman in this very room." The intensity of his gaze. And the seriousness of his voice. Raivierra's face grew hot. Then her neck. Down to her chest. She shrunk away ever-so-slightly.

"Her." The blunt sound caught her off-guard. *****'s far hand was raised with a pointing finger. Raivierra followed his gesture. It was directed at a blonde-haired, fair-skinned woman draped in a light blue gown. She let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding. Her face began to cool. Relief? Or…?

"Lady Vivian?" she asked, her throat dry.

"You know her?" ****** glanced in the woman's direction before looking back at Raivierra expectantly.

"Not particularly. But as well as I'd ever want to." she replied flatly. Or not. The woman was a child. An absolute brat. Beautiful… but a brat.

"Perhaps one day you'd do right by me and introduce us." ***** was looking over at Vivian again. His tongue flicked out over the right corner of his mouth. Of course.

"Oh, it would be my _pleasure_" Raivierra drawled, grasping his far forearm- ++++ and tense, relaxing under her grip. She took a few steps in the blonde's direction. "If I'm lucky, the two of you will—" he jerked her back, causing her to stumble, or rather, fall back into him.

"I didn't mean this moment." He laughed at her startled expression, completely unaware (or uncaring) of her hands bracing against his chest. "I couldn't forgive myself if I left you to be lonely for the rest of the evening." The warmth of his left hand dropped from where he had steadied her at the waist. "I hear it's social suicide to be caught alone at these things."

Raivierra cocked a brow, matching his cocky demeanor. "Oh really? And where in all of Camelot would you have heard that insightful bit?" she tilted her head as se spoke.

"As persuasive as you can be…" He tilted his head, mimicking her. "I don't disclose my sources."

"Well if that's the case, then you run and tell your source I'd hardly be left alone." She cemented it with a wink.

"Well if that's the case…" ***** started, already mocking her. "Then all the more reason for me to stick around." He flashed a winning smile and an exaggerated wink. "After all, I _have_ seen the kind of men you attract… _dear_." He whispered that last bit into her ear, his lips and stubble tickling her cheek. She silently thanked his withdrawal before he managed in teasing out a blush.

She threw her head back, closed her eyes, and laughed. She heard his laugh rumbling along with her. Felt it through her palms "Good God, you are a piece of work." She opened her eyes ever-so-slightly. Even through those little slits she caught him staring. Again. Leaning towards her with glossy eyes. What was with him? Or rather, what was with her?

Her eyes went wide.

Wider than that doe-eyed Vivian's set of baby blues. ****** was talking. But hell, she couldn't hear a word of it. Over his shoulder… she'd seen him. An extraordinarily unremarkable man. But handsome. Strikingly sharp features. Strong, scarred arms masked by baggy sleeves. Deep, gravelly tone suddenly gone silent. Steely grey-blue eyes looking at her.

Damn it!

She ducked back in front of *****, hiding behind his torso. But he was no boulder. And she'd already been spotted.

He was coming for her. Damn it!

Hell, this was bound to catch up to her sooner or later. She should've known… well, actually, no. No. She'd left this. Fled from it. Hid from it. Taken measures to become _untraceable_, as far as she was concerned. She should've stayed that way.

When she finally turned her attention back to *******, she found the man's face scrunched with worry. When he tried to look over his shoulder, Raivierra grabbed either of his arms and forcibly turned him back to her. Silencing his protest with a motion of her hand, she dared not avert her gaze. "I have a confession to make"

**Note: That's it for now folks. Hope you enjoyed, and maybe this'll help hold ya'll over til the next legit release. Or not. Let me know what you think of this whole plan and I may release more material like this or remove that option completely and just release updates in chronological order.**


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